copse (Remove filter)
Mud
dusk in the copse is foggy, and after rain there's
mud, so you watch your step as rubber
boots kick life into the mess.
no rainbow
lights the ploughed churning, or stars sputter at such
perfect mire, it harks instead at
mad trenches, branches
dripping onto brambles sharp as barbed wire.
can worms survive this clay or do
gills get jammed as mouths and rifles did, each
...
Thursday 6th August 2020 1:47 pm
Recent Comments
Sunshine on An apology
4 hours ago
Sunshine on Comedy of errors
4 hours ago
Sunshine on Towards a brighter future
4 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Eradicating an old flame pain
5 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Eradicating an old flame pain
5 hours ago
David RL Moore on Eradicating an old flame pain
5 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on song of pure desperation.
5 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Gone Girl
5 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Breathe
5 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Preferences in attendance
5 hours ago